Bianchi carried a tray balanced expertly on one hand with an entire meal laid out including a milkshake since she'd heard Spanner had a sweet tooth. Ever thoughtful. Her tray radiated a menacing smell that drifted up and tickled the nose, made the mouth water but seemed off just that little bit. The food itsself was a disturbing atomic purple and some of it wiggled. Although in the upper left quadrant there appeared to be a perfectly healthy bit of mashed potatoes with a nice slab of butter on top. She lifted her free hand and knocked on Spanners door before reaching down to twist the doorknob.